Shit for Brains

That was my father’s favorite expression to describe an idiot. A cleaned-up version was “don’t have the brains that God gave geese.” Not as effective, in my book. And, in tribute to my dad, I use “shit for brains” all the time. Luckily, there are a lot of people around who qualify. You know…the general populace. Shit for Brains.

They’re all over the place. Those folks that confound you, annoy you, and make you wonder how they survive from day to day. And the saddest part of all is that none of them realize just how much of a jerk they really are. Some of them even go as far as to be impressed with their every action. They are the most dangerous of all who possess shit for brains.

Here are some I’ve come across as I’ve gone about my business. I am guessing you have your own versions of these numbskulls as well.

How about the dope on line in front of you getting a snack at the movie theater? While waiting, they’re on the cell phone or texting or communicating with some other dummy ten feet away. You’re already pressed for time because your feature starts in five, no, make that, four minutes. They get to the counter and then….proceed to stare at the menu as if they’re picking out a university. “Hmmmmmm.” Okay, asshole, this is a movie theater and this is a candy counter. You’re not going to find Lobster Newburg up there. And, if you had paid even the slightest attention while you were on line the past ten minutes, you could have formulated at least in small part what kind of Gummi Bears would be striking your fancy as you watch Sandra Bullock hack through a bad script. Shit for Brains.

You have noticed somebody getting into their car as you cruise for a parking space. So you pull up alongside and wait. And wait. And wait. And WAIT. Nine times out of ten, this person is a woman. She gets into the car. She adjusts the mirror as if some sinister paranormal being had moved it since she last drove. Then she looks for a CD. She snaps on the seat belt. She smoothes the blouse that has been ruffled by the snapping of said seat belt. You’re waiting in your car and you realize another Presidential administration has come and gone. And, all the while, you know this bitch knows you’re waiting. And doesn’t care because she is the most important thing in the whole wide world. Shit for Brains.

I actually had this happen to me on line at Ralph’s Supermarket. I had a load of groceries. The Chinese kid from UCLA in front of me was holding a banana. I suggested that he should use the automated express checkout.

"Nah, I have to break a 100 dollar bill."

Huh?? For a banana??

As I expected, his single purchase took up to ten minutes as the cashier scrambled to several registers in order to come up with $99.50 worth of change for this likely math major. The kid apologized.

"Sorry. This is what the bank gave me."

Huh??? You actually were in a bank. The last time I was there getting some cash there, the teller asked me how I would like it. Tens? Twenties? Pennies? They always do. But, apparently, not for this Calculus student who is truly...Shit for Brains.

Go to transact something for business at either a bank, a post office, or an overnight courier just before they close for the day. Who do you invariably find clogging up the line? A senior citizen. Some fossil who's been home all day listening to their arteries harden. With plenty of time to hop down to the mail center to send a box of cookies to Cousin Myrtle in Torrance. But, no. They need to head out when everybody else is out or in a time sensitive situation. My grandparents did it right. Their errands were conducted every day between the hours of 10A and 2PM. When working people were trying to wrap up their day, my grandparents were safely out of their way. Grandma watching Mike Douglas and Grandpa hoisting a cold one down at the beer garden on the corner. Neither one of them had...Shit for Brains.

California last year passed a law that prohibits phone or text use while driving a car. That scared everybody for about a week until they realized nobody was getting stopped or a ticket for this offense. Now, I see it being done than I did before the rule went into effect. I actually saw this happen a few weeks ago on one of my long walks. A bimbette was at a stop light. She was typing feverishly on her Black Berry which she was holding on top of the steering wheel as if it was an office desk. The light changed and the guy behind her honked the horn. She took her hand off the Black Berry long enough to flip him her finger. Cute. I was dying for this little bitch to get her special punishment from God. It didn't take long.

As I continued my walk another two blocks, I found her again. Having rear-ended some poor slob. She stood outside her car and tearfully surveyed the damage, while still gabbing away on her cell phone. I yelled across the street.

"Hey, Honey!"

She looked over to me. I flipped her my finger and smiled.

Shit for Brains!

Dinner last night: Chicken sausage and leftover risotto.